Far From You
Page 12
confused
I’m not ready
for Blaze to leave,
but he says
he needs to run an errand
for his mom.
I tell him
to hurry back.
He’s only gone
for a minute.
I laugh.
“I knew you couldn’t stay away long.”
He smiles.
“Claire’s here.
She brought you doughnuts.”
I think of her
standing there,
doughnuts in hand.
I want to be happy,
but instead
I feel my heart
droop like a daisy
at night.
She didn’t
want to make up
before.
She didn’t want
to talk it out.
She didn’t want
to be my friend.
I broke my phone
because of her.
A phone that could have
saved us
from all
that we endured.
I don’t get
why she’s here.
She thought I was dead,
so now she loves me again?
“I’m not ready to see her,” I tell him.
Because it’s the truth.
I’m not.
time to start stitching
A little while later,
Dad walks in
carrying Ivy.
I squeal
when I see her.
He places her
in my arms,
and I can’t believe
how good
and strong
and healthy
she looks.
“Ali,” he says, “I need to tell you how sorry I am.”
My eyes move
from the baby
to him.
I can tell
it’s hard for him.
“I pushed you away,” he continues.
“You remind me so much of your mom.
And it hurt, I guess.”
“I didn’t exactly make it easy for you.”
It’s not all your fault.”
Ivy is kicking her legs,
waving her arms,
and looking at me with her
big, beautiful eyes.
Thankfulness
oozes from my pores.
She is here.
She is strong.
She is fine.
“It’s so weird how much I love her now,” I say.
“I guess something good did come out of being lost.
I’m just sorry it took a stupid crisis.”
“I don’t think it matters how hearts are mended, Al.
Just that they are, you know?”
I think of Claire,
going home,
an expert mender
when it comes to clothes,
but unable to mend
her broken heart
without my help.
She has the needle,
but I have the thread.
“Can I borrow your phone, Dad?”
the best medicine
Blaze and Claire
walk in
at the same time.
Claire is still holding
the bag of doughnuts.
And Blaze is holding
a brand-new,
supersweet
guitar.
“Blaze! Seriously?”
He puts it in my lap
and gives me a kiss.
“Figured you’d want to start writing.
And playing.
I know that’s how you deal with stuff.”
I look at Claire.
“I’m sorry, Ali,” she says.
“You can write whatever songs you want.”
I smile at her.
“No.
You were right.
People don’t want to feel sad all the time.
I’ve learned I sure as hell don’t.”
She comes over,
gives me a hug,
kisses my cheek,
and hands me my
doughnuts.
“I’ve missed you so much,” she says
with tears in her eyes.
“Me too,” I tell her.
“And I’m sorry too.
For everything.”
She hugs me again,
and when she stands up,
she says, “So come on.
Pass out the doughnuts!
I’m starving.”
I strum on my guitar,
then hand it to Blaze
so I can eat.
Doughnuts
Music.
Love.
It doesn’t get
any better
than this.
clear skies
Ivy and I
are both released.
Vic has to stay
a little longer
because she lost some toes
and needs to start
rehabilitation.
When I visit her
before we go,
she’s holding
her sleeping baby,
and the picture
of the two of them
is just how it should be.
She pats the edge
of her bed
and asks me
to sit with her.
“I don’t know how you did it,” I tell her.
“Me neither,” she says.
“I just walked and walked,
even when I didn’t think I could go any further.
It’s a miracle the search team found me.
I think an angel was looking out for me.”
When she says that,
I can only nod
because I know
it’s true for all of us.
Outside the window
there is blue sky,
sunshine,
and fluffy white clouds.
In a few minutes
I’ll be out there
again.
Will I ever
think of the world
the same
again?
Will I ever
squeal in delight
at the sight of snow
again?
Her voice jars me
from my thoughts.
“Thank you, Ali.
For taking care of her.”
I reach over
and grab Ivy’s
little hand.
I don’t want to worry.
I don’t want to be sad.
I have so much to be happy about.
So I smile and say,
“Next time I baby-sit,
can we have a pizza delivered?”
helicopter dog
Cobain
is there
as I open the door,
and I think
he might lift himself
off the ground,
his tail
is wagging
so hard.
discoveries
It’s dinnertime,
and Dad asks me
if I want to
help him make enchiladas.
I see the can of sauce
on the kitchen counter,
and I remember the jingle
we made up
together.
As soon as I
start singing,
he joins in.
“Sweet Fiesta Verde Sauce,
Verde Sauce,
Verde Sauce.
Sweet Fiesta Verde Sauce,
Frankenstein’s lip gloss!”
We laugh when we get
to the final line,
and I tell him
enchiladas sound great.
But then Ivy cries
and I instinctively
reach down
to comfort her.
After a few seconds,
her mouth curves into
a big grin.
“Dad, she smiled!
She smiled at me!”
I talk
baby talk to her
and she keeps smiling.
“That grin’s bigger than the Cheshire-Cat’s,” Dad says.
And then I remember.
“Did the car make it back here?
Or the stuff in the car?”
He shakes his head.
“Not yet.
Why?”
My brain is thinking,
trying to remember
if I have another copy.
“Can you make dinner by yourself?
Ivy and I want to look for something.”
“Of course,” he says.
When I find the book
on my bookcase,
I flip through the pages,
wondering how
I will ever know
which part is
Mom’s favorite.
Something about
yesterday.
Flipping
skimming
flipping
skimming.
And then
a mark in the book
catches my eye.
It’s underlined.
Did she do that?
Has it been there this whole time,
and I never noticed?
I read the line out loud.
“‘…it’s no use going back to yesterday,
because I was a different person then.’”
“I guess it means
everything’s always changing,” I tell Ivy.
“Nothing’s ever the same.”
I stop and grab
a piece of paper,
lyrics coming at me
faster than my hand
can write them down.
Inspired.
As I write,
it’s as if Mom is there
next to me.
She understands.
She always did.
And suddenly
I feel the need
to go to my closet,
get the painting she gave me,
and place it on my desk.
“You know what?” I say to Ivy
as I think about our time in the snow.
“The more you can share,
the less lost you feel.”
flying through the rabbit hole
a song
by Alice Andreeson
Everything’s always changing.
Nothing stays the same.
Yesterday’s gone forever,
I’ve got memories and my name.
But like Alice I grow bigger,
and I shrink back, yes, it’s true.
It’s the ebbs and flows of life,
it’s the rabbit hole we go through.
But with angels we will make it.
And with angels we will fly.
We will keep on going forward.
We will fly, yes, we will fly.
We will fly, yes, we will fly.
Friends will keep us happy.
Our family keeps us warm.
We’ll party through the good times
and hold tight through the storms.
Because with angels we will make it.
And with angels we will fly.
We will keep on going forward.
We will fly, yes, we will fly.
We will fly, yes, we will fly.
Wonderland is here now.
Don’t know what we might see.
Yesterday’s gone forever.
But my future’s up to me.
What a future it will be….